The Rage: The Debt, #3

By Sara Hubbard

* The Rage is Book III in The Debt Series. It is recommended that you read books I and II before reading book III.

 

"Emotions consumed me, and I couldn't see my way through them, so I tried to f*** them out of me. To find some semblance of quiet in my head. Luna gave me that peace for a short while, and in doing so, I felt more connected to her than I ever have to anyone. But it didn't take long to get into my head again. I don't want to need someone. I don't want to feel desperate to have someone make me feel sane."

 

Max knows that keeping Luna means making changes. He's trying to be the best version of himself, but it's hard when he was raised to be the ruthless king of Falmouth City. And it's harder still when there is darkness inside of him that won't stay silent.

 

"The anger is back. Louder and more insistent than before. Something is broken inside of me that I can't fix, a monster inside of me always sleeping with one eye open, waiting for something or someone to disturb it."

 

As the fallout from Max's father's death unravels, Max will have to fight enemies he didn't know existed to keep his loved ones safe. But as the days go on, his situation becomes more complicated. To come out on top, Max will have to come to terms with who he is and who he is not. But will that person be worthy of the woman he loves? And will she accept him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Hubbard
• Release date: Apr 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781988212401

Sara Hubbard

Sara Hubbard is a romantic fiction author. She loves alpha males and the sweet, sassy women who make them believe in change. Sara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two children (four if you count her husband and her needy labradoodle) and works as registered nurse.  Sign up for Sara's mailing list to be notified about new releases and for bonus content: http://eepurl.com/NDwi5 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Luna: I walk past the receptionist at Oceanview Medical Clinic with my head down. Today is my second day working here, and to say this woman is cool to me is an understatement. When I peek at her from my peripheral view, her eyes are on me. I give her a small wave, and she nods curtly. It’s unfortunate. I was hopeful this job would be a fresh start to me, but it seems my boyfriend and my reputations precede us.

I push through the glass doors, and the sunlight hits me. I squint to focus. Though it’s the fall, the temperature is warm. Wearing my scrubs and a hooded sweatshirt is comfortable for me so I saunter to my car with my jacket slung over my arm.

It’s been such a long day, and not just because the clerk was a jerk to me, but also because the nurse at the clinic wears a million hats, and after a quick turnover yesterday from a nurse who’s retiring, I was left to my own devices today. Working in intensive care was hard, but this job is challenging me in other ways. Mentally exhausted with sore feet, I reach my car, anxious to get home to a warm bath and to my boyfriend, Max. We haven’t seen each other as much as I’d like lately, and I miss him.

I stay on the sidewalk while I dig through my purse for the keys to the car that Max bought me. My purse is more like a tote, and it’s full of stuff I don’t always use but that I might need. When I find my keys, I pull them out and unlock the car with a button.

Two men approach me. I don’t realize how close they are until they’re a few feet away. You’d think I’d be more observant after nearly being murdered—twice—in recent weeks, but then, I’m on a busy street and there are witnesses everywhere. Professionals aren’t so sloppy. I take a step back, my keys between my fingers, the sharp ends pointed out. I’m not big or full of muscle—quite the opposite, actually—but I’m a fighter, especially when it comes to life or death.

One of the men takes a step to my car and leans his back against it, crossing his legs at his ankles. The other shoves a hand into one of his pockets, revealing the hard plastic end of a handgun strapped to the area below his armpit. I swallow and glance back and forth between them, my heart rate soaring.

Relax, says the shorter one. He pulls out a small leather wallet and flips it open. It’s not a wallet but a holder for a badge. He’s RCMP. I let out a breath and feel the muscles in my body relax, one by one. My heart rate slows to normal. But then, the tension in my body creeps back in. Talking to cops is not a good thing when you’re dating a guy who’s criminal royalty in this city.

He puts his badge away and returns his hands to the pockets of his wrinkled, black pants. We just wanna talk.

The tall one eyes me with his narrowed green eyes like I’m a textbook to study.

I’m Constable Evans and this is Corporal Smith, the short one says.

I swallow.

And you’re Luna Pyke, right? Evans says.

I nod. I should tell them I’m busy, get in my car, and drive away. That is exactly what Max would want me to do, but I’m curious. Max has done some awful things, and I worry one day they’ll catch up to him. He’s so careful, but everyone makes mistakes sooner or later.

What can I do for you? Tote and jacket in hand still, I fold my arms over my chest and casually scan the street.

We’re investigating the death of Sergei Morozova.

Sergei was Max’s father. Max killed him to protect me, knowing that the only way I could have a normal life—and continue breathing—was if his father died. His brother tried to make me kill him, but Max did it for me, saving me in a different way. Killing someone would have tortured me for the rest of my life.

He is one of over a dozen missing people in recent months, Evans says. You and your father were missing, too, but somehow you managed to return to your life unharmed. How fortunate for you. He smiles at me. We aren’t hopeful that’ll turn out to be the case for the others, though.

A lump builds in my throat, and I try my damndest to swallow it down. They’re right. All of them are likely dead. My father is for sure. I was forced to watch him die. I wrestle with that knowledge and those vivid memories every day. For all his flaws, my mother still loves him. He’ll never be found, and there will never be a funeral. She’ll wonder what happened to him for the rest of her life because I’ll never be able to tell her the truth.

Look, one way or another, the majority of the missing cases in this city are connected to your boyfriend or his family.

Then why aren’t you talking to him about it? I ask.

Evans chuckles without humor. He wipes the smile off his face with his hand. We both know he ain’t talking to me or my partner.

You won’t know unless you try.

Smith scoffs at me and pushes away from the car. He rolls his shoulders and stands taller, as if trying to intimidate me. He doesn’t. I’ve dealt with much bigger men than him.

This city is more dangerous than ever now that Sergei is gone, Evans says. He ruled with an iron fist, but he kept some semblance of order on the streets. I hear Andrei has now taken his place. Not a lot of people are happy with the change in leadership. Do you know what happens when people are unhappy?

I shake my head.

They revolt.

Smith cuts in. From what I hear, he’s worse than his father. This city is already suffering, and it’s about to get worse. We need help to make sure no one else goes missing or has their hand hacked off and left in a park.

I snap my head in his direction. Hand? What hand?

Evans blinks.

Smith quietly says, You didn’t know?

Know what? Whose hand was hacked off?

Sergei’s. Post-mortem.

His hand was hacked off? I whisper to myself.

I suppose ‘cut off’ is more accurate. The cut was clean. But whoever did it obviously meant to send a message. And that gesture is about to start a war.

And his body?

Smith shrugs. The hell if I know.

I let go of a breath and feel my stomach turn. My pain is likely written all over my face, but it’s not because someone picked a war with Max’s family. Not even close. It’s because of what Max did and the fact that he didn’t tell me.

Max said his family is fighting over Sergei’s businesses and possessions. It is only a matter of time before the fighting gets someone else in his family killed. His relationship with his brother and mother is tenuous, but he doesn’t want either to die. So he decided to dig up his father’s body and leave it where it would be found. The will would be read, and then they couldn’t fight anymore. Never once during our conversation about this did he tell me he cut off his father’s hand. As hard as Max can be, I’m surprised he could bring himself to do this. It’s a line I didn’t expect him to cross, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

I have to go, I say. I open the door of my car, but Smith pushes it closed.

I glare at him.

You’re a nurse, right?

I adjust my stance.

You must care about people and want to help them. That’s what nurses are all about, right?

I say nothing. I don’t think it needs to be said.

Do what you do best, Smith says, and help us protect all the innocent people in this city from people like Andrei Morozova.

And Max. They mean Max, too.

I shake my head at him. I can’t help you, I whisper.

Evans pulls a card out of his pocket and holds it out to me. If you change your mind, reach out. You seem like a nice girl. Maybe you got caught up with the wrong guy and don’t know how to get out. He points to the card. We can help you.

Smith takes a step back, opens the door, and holds it for me.

I take the card, though I have no intention of ever calling either of them, and slide inside. Smith gently closes the door and walks backward until he’s in line with his partner.

My gaze flickers back and forth between them before I start the engine.

If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem, Smith says, eyeing me.

I slide the car into drive and pull away, watching them in my rear-view mirror while I consider his words. He’s wrong. I am not part of the problem. I would never hurt anyone, and I do feel the need to help and protect people. Not just because I’m a nurse, but because I try to be a good person. Still, his words needle at me. My biggest fear about dating Max is that being with him makes me complicit to the things he’s done. I made my peace with this when I decided to judge him based on how he treats me and not how he treats other people. Also, I feel like he’s better with me. He’s trying. I can see it. If innocent people get hurt in this city, it won’t be because of Max. For all the bad he does, he has a code. He doesn’t hurt innocent people.

---

Maxim: A knock on my open office door draws my attention. I glance up from my paperwork to watch my cousin Yuri walk inside. Then I do a double take. He’s got a row of stitches on his cheek and another row on his neck. He also has a black eye. Leaning back in my chair, I double click the pen in my hand.

We saw each other yesterday, and he didn’t have these battle wounds then. I’m busy, but I’m also interested. I’ve tried my best to take a step back from my family’s businesses, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss parts of it.

Rough day? I ask.

You could say that. He pulls the chair out from behind the other desk beside mine. He drops into it and sighs. Then he folds his hands over his stomach.

I raise an eyebrow. So?

So what?

What the fuck happened to your face?

He chuckles at me before adjusting in his seat. He opens his mouth but then snaps it shut. He gets up and walks over to my door, kicks it closed, and returns to his seat.

Sale with a new client, he says.

Who?

Anton Redoubt. I’d never heard of him before, and Andrei never said who referred him. At any rate, the guy was a fucking punk. He tried to rob us. Yuri points to his chest and stares at me wide-eyed. Us? Can you believe it? He lets out a string of curses in Russian.

A sneer curls along my lips. I like to think of men like me as illegal businessmen. We’re definitely not above lying, cheating, and stealing in life, but when it comes to business deals, it’s important to honor our agreements. We live and die by our word, and I’ll cut down any man who doesn’t follow this one simple rule.

Andrei lost his mind, of course. This Anton prick got a shot off just before Andrei was in reach of him. Needless to say, the man is dead now.

Who got the bullet?

He laughs. No one. He was like fifteen feet away, and he missed.

And your face? I ask.

One of his goons. Everyone started fighting. He points to his cheek and his neck. I fought one who was rather good with a knife.

I look away, heat igniting inside of me and burning through my veins. I should have been there.

I won’t lie. I’d feel a lot safer with you at my back. It comes down to trust, cousin. And I don’t trust Andrei and his men like I trust you. But it worked out all right. He shrugs. I live another day, and I got some extra scars to give me some character. He smooths his hands over his cheeks and smiles.

You have enough character. I ball my fists. I have a love-hate relationship with violence. Everything about it excites me and draws me in. I love the feel of putting my fists in a man’s face and hearing the sick crunch of their bones when I connect with them. Love the smell of blood, even. There’s something alluring about it. The metallic smell and the taste of it. But I hate that I love it. I know my thirst for blood and chaos makes me a monster, and the woman I love would be repulsed by me if she knew how much I crave it, or how easy it is for me to give into the beast that hides inside of me.

You having second thoughts? He eyes me. Andrei would welcome you back if it’s what you want.

I take a breath and relax my hands. Meeting his eyes, I make a face. I’ll never work for him. Not in this lifetime.

Instead, you try going straight for the girl.

I glare at him. I’m not going straight.

No, maybe not. But you’re not far off. Some illegal fighting? Running a gym? They’re not enough for you. You know that, don’t you?

I know this is the way forward.

He frowns at me. Look, I get it. If I could go back before Claire died, there’s nothing I wouldn’t have tried to make things work with her. His voice is quieter, almost sad, when he continues talking. He rarely talks about her. She was the only girl that ever got under his skin, and I don’t suspect he’ll ever find anyone who can take her place.

I might have gone straight, might have been happy for a while, he says. Who knows, maybe a long while. He pauses for a long moment as he looks past me. But eventually I would go back to being the man that I am. Nature always wins out. No matter how much you try to fight it.

Are you done, doc? Should I send you a bill?

He grins at me. Maybe later.

What’s Andrei up to now? He make a move yet?

Yuri waggles his head. Not yet. He’s going through the motions. Pretending to be outraged about your father’s death, vowing to take revenge. He needs some time to pretend he’s been scouring the city, looking for his killer. He plans on announcing the Bravos are responsible after the funeral. Everyone will be good and wound up then. He’ll tell me to pull the hand from my freezer and leave it in a park or on a path somewhere so he can start his war.

He moves too slow. My mother called me today.

I didn’t realize you were friendly again.

We’re not. But the cops are giving her information because she’s my father’s widow. I gave her a minute of my time. Long enough for her to tell me they found evidence on Dad’s hand. Evidence I planted.

Wars get people and their families killed, and I would have been dragged into it. I’m not interested in fighting a bullshit war and risking Luna’s life. I almost lost her twice already. So I stepped in and decided to frame someone else. Someone no one would miss. I also killed him.

That was real smart of you. He can’t blame it on the Bravos if the cops have evidence it was someone else.

I nod.

I don’t mind a good fight, he says. Fuck, I welcome them. But fighting a war because he wants people to follow him? I ain’t got time for that shit. I’m too old.

I fight a smirk. He’s twenty-seven and younger than me by just a few months.

You taking Luna to the funeral tomorrow?

I thrum my fingers on the arms of the chair. She insisted.

Yuri grins wide.

Stop. Your smile irritates me.

What’re you doing now? he asks. You want to take off and get some curry? The mild kind. I got some bad indigestion from a spicy taco I ate yesterday. Mind you, I think it was because the cheese was bad.

I’m about to have a meeting with Benny.

About the fights?

I nod. Benny runs all the underground fighting in the city and the gambling that goes along with it. It earns Benny a good income and, given my interest in fighting for fun and for sport, I’ve decided I want a piece of it.

It’ll be a good fit for you…if he lets you buy in.

You think he’ll say no to me? I feel a grin curl along my lips.

Yuri slowly shakes his head. Few people do. But that’s usually because they’re afraid of you.

I chuckle. Or maybe it’s because I’m good at what I do.

Nah, you’re not that good.

I toss my pen at him, and he ducks out of the way. When it lands, he bends over and grabs it before tossing it on my desk.

A rapping on the door disturbs us. Benny Carlson stands on the other side of the glass door. I wave for him to come inside.

You want me to take off? Yuri asks as Benny opens the door.

I shake my head. Stay. Maybe you might have something useful to add to the conversation. For a change…

Fuck you, Yuri says.

Am I interrupting? Benny shuts the door behind him and approaches my desk.

No, not at all, I say. Yuri and I stand and shake hands with Benny before we all take a seat. He’s not a big man, but he used to fight for money like I do. He could never last with men with long reaches, but he was slippery. If he could get in close and avoid a punch, he could usually topple a man with his right hook. Not me, though. My skull might as well be made of titanium.

You wanted to see me, he asks, getting right down to business.

I did.

Should I be nervous? he asks, running a hand over the short pale hair on his narrow chin.

I lean back in my chair and smile at him to reassure him. People don’t love when I ask to see them. I tend to avoid people because most of them irritate me. So when I call, it’s usually because someone has offended me or pissed me off. That’s never a good thing. My anger is controlled for the most part—in public—but I have no problem revisiting conversations behind closed doors when someone least expects it. Or, at least, I used to do that. I’m trying to be good.

Fuck Yuri. He thinks nature always wins out. Maybe that’s true for most, but I’m not a man easily deterred. I’m going to straddle this line of good and bad. And I’m going to excel at it.

I have a proposition for you, I say.

Benny raises his eyebrows. I’m all ears.

CHAPTER 2

Luna: I came home late to an empty house. I lived alone before I moved in here with Max, and I never minded being by myself, but I don’t enjoy being alone here . Max works so much, and though he keeps saying his commitments will settle down, I’m not certain that’s true. He’s always going to have something or someone calling or texting him with one emergency or another.

I pull out a container of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and trudge over to the island in my slippers. Then I sit on the stool at the island and sigh. All the lights are off except for the one over the stove. I open the container and dig in. My stomach gurgles in anticipation. Nothing hits the spot more when you’re sad and lonely than ice cream. What’s better? Ice cream and a glass of wine.

Max has a wine cellar in the basement. I go downstairs where there is a room with a large glass door. Inside, there are perhaps a hundred bottles of wine on oak shelving units. I know nothing about the wine. I just want something that tastes good, but I’m afraid to choose something that might cost a fortune. I pick up a white wine. It’s about ten years old. I have a feeling the more expensive ones would be much older. He has a bottle in here that’s over fifty years old, so ten sounds good.

By the time I see the flash of lights from a car in the driveway in the foyer, I’m nearly done with my ice cream, and I’m almost done with my second glass of wine. The quiet mechanical whir of the garage door opening and closing sings in the background. Then I hear the alarm beep before Max opens the door to the foyer.

Instantly, I feel better,